


Skirting About

by Ineffable_Eden



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), F/M, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Name-Calling, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22289167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffable_Eden/pseuds/Ineffable_Eden
Summary: Aziraphale tries on a female body for the first time and Crowley is all too eager to discover every inch of it.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 222





	Skirting About

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been seeing a lot of cute femme Aziraphale cosplays lately and it led to this pure, unadulterated, self indulgent smut. Enjoy!

Crowley strode across the grass at St. James park to meet Aziraphale at their bench. The angel had called and excitedly insisted he come right away. Crowley wondered what could be so bloody important that he had to abandon his weekly sixteen hour nap. As he neared the bench from behind, he noticed an intruder trespassing on their spot. This wouldn’t do. Those that frequented the park knew this bench was off limits. They may not have known why it was, but nobody dared sit there. Crowley walked around to the front of it, not even bothering to look the trespasser in the face as he sat. “Up you get, that seat’s taken.” 

The figure next to him looked up from the book that laid over crossed legs. “Expecting someone else?” Crowley’s eyes dilated behind his glasses. That was Aziraphale’s voice, albeit a tad higher in pitch. He slowly turned his head and whipped his sunglasses off before he could think better of it. There sat a woman, unruly blonde curls springing from her head, that same pale skin Crowley was so fond of, light blue button down shirt with the angel’s signature bow tie, tartan skirt a few inches above the knee, cream colored high socks and tan boat shoes. Aziraphale held her hands out in a sort of _tada!_ gesture.

“Angel, what have you gone and done now? A woman, really?” Aziraphale poured slightly at the remark. “You don’t like it? I thought it might be a nice surprise.” Crowley could see that he’d wounded her a little and instantly hated himself. “It’s not that, angel. I love you in every form. Although, I’m rather fond of your usual.” The angel smiled and went on to explain that she was out doing a little shopping and came across the skirt. She just had to have it and it inspired her to try on this new appearance. Crowley looked her over. She was still a pleasantly plump, little cherub. No hard edges, just rounded softness all over. He reached out to take the angel’s hand. “How about some Chinese?” Aziraphale looked confused for a moment. “Well, I suppose I could but _-gesturing over herself-_ this took some work.” Crowley’s head dropped in his free hand. “ _FOOD, angel. Chinese FOOD, for hell’s sake_.” 

They drove a short ways to a nearby restaurant and each ordered a classic Dim Sum dish. Crowley studied Aziraphale’s new look as they waited. He was starting to get used to it. The features of her face were more or less the same. The little turned up nose, cheeks in an almost permanent shade of pink, full lips that looked too enticing as they sipped tea. His focus on Aziraphale’s mouth brought up something more curious in his mind. Had she gone full on with this transformation? He quickly elbowed the napkin wrapped silverware off the table. “Oops.” He leaned down to pick up the offending utensils and peeked under the table. Legs crossed primly at the ankle because _of course they were._

The waiter made his way to the table and sat the little steamer baskets in front of them, Aziraphale thanking him in Chinese as he departed. Crowley picked at his dumplings, too engrossed in thoughts of female anatomy, Aziraphale’s potential female anatomy to be precise. Perhaps, the angel would indulge him a little exploration. He looked up to Aziraphale who’d ceased her usual chatter and nearly choked at what he saw. Aziraphale had abandoned her food and taken to looking down curiously as she pushed her new breasts together with her palms, then letting them fall back into place. His train of thought derailed, not only derailed but crashed, headlong into another derailed train from some alternate location. Crowley mindlessly snapped his chopsticks in half. “Angel. What the devil are you doing. Stop this instant.” Aziraphale laughed as she looked up, continuing on with the display. “These are quite entertaining. I should have tried this ages ago!” Crowley hissed through clenched teeth as he felt his trousers tighten uncomfortably. “Angel, for the love of all that is unholy.” Aziraphale halted the action, her mouth forming a surprised O shape. “You like it, don’t you? Admit it! You do!” Crowley leaned forward on the table, his frustration etched all over his face. “I do not. I’m just saving you from embarrassing yourself!” 

Crowley actually started eating now, anything to distract him for the confusing hard on that lingered beneath the table. A handsome looking man walked towards them and slid a tiny slip of paper next to Aziraphale’s teacup. He grinned sinfully at the angel as he walked away. Aziraphale looked at the paper, slightly puzzled, before the realization of what it meant hit her. It was a phone number. She’d been _hit on._ She waved the little paper playfully in front of Crowley’s face who promptly snatched it and turned it to ash in his fist. The demon stood, watching out the window as the man got into a brand new Tesla. All his tires instantly went flat, beyond the scope of a patch job. He sat back down, feeling only slight justification and slapped a few bills on the table. “Let’s go, angel.” Aziraphale cooed at her heated lover. “Crowley, dear. You know I only have eyes for you.” Of course Crowley knew that. There was just a pressing matter that he needed to tend to. He rose from his seat and hastily pulled Azriaphale along by the elbow out to the Bentley. “We’re going to my place.” Aziraphale didn’t question it. She’d teased and Crowley didn’t have much tolerance for teasing. Crowley peeled out of the parking lot, only taking a slight glance at the confused man who’s tires had four identical punctures. 

The ride to Crowley’s flat was more violent than usual, even for Crowley. He stole an occasional glance at the angel, who’d conveniently forgotten to smooth the skirt underneath her when she’d sat down. The result was tartan fabric bunched up around plentiful thighs that jiggled just right when Crowley hit a bump. _Fucking skirt._ They reached their destination and Crowley again dragged Aziraphale along with him. They walked into the flat and Crowley tossed his keys along with his sunglasses onto his desk, setting his sights on Aziraphale. He stalked towards her in a way that felt as primal as it looked. He had her backed against the wall, arms raised on either side of her, bracing himself with his fingertips. Crowley’s golden gaze locked onto the wide eyed angel. This must have been her plan all along. Adopt this new body, garner some outside attention to rile him up, tempt him with new curves. He ran the back of his hand down her soft cheek, feeling the tiny blonde hairs raise in response to his touch. “You know what you’ve done, angel.” Aziraphale’s ample chest heaved in place of words. Crowley trailed a finger down her throat, looping down into the bow tie and snapping it from around her neck. “You’ve tempted me. Did you think that would be wise? Using my own tricks against me?” He continued down, popping buttons on Aziraphale’s shirt until he reached her waist. Sliding his hands inside the shirt, he moved it down the angel’s soft shoulders, revealing pale blue lingerie with white embroidered detail. “Oh, you knew _absolutely_ what you were doing. Dressed yourself up all pretty for me, did you?” Crowley positioned a knee between Aziraphale’s thighs and spread them apart as he gathered the skirt up in his hand. He slid his fingers down her stomach, traveling down into the matching panties she wore. She _had_ gone all the way with it _._ He palmed at the soft mound of flesh there, watching Aziraphale’s eyes lower and mouth drop open in response. It was hot and wet between the angel’s thighs. “Tell me how this feels.” He slid his middle finger down the center of this new place, finding the warm opening and pushing inside. Aziraphale craned her head back and moaned, relishing the unfamiliar sensation. Pleasure crackled through her nerve endings and she bucked her hips forward in response. “Oh, Crowley...more, please.” Crowley hummed in response and withdrew from between her legs, earning a whimper of desperation from the angel. He examined his wet fingers and brought them to the principality’s lips. “Are you a nice girl or are you a slut? Show me.” Aziraphale considered for a moment, but didn’t waste time responding. She parted her lips and Crowley pushed two fingers into her mouth, reaching the back of her throat, then dragging them out along her tongue. “Thought so.” 

He reached down to the back of Aziraphale’s thighs and hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed her deeply, pleased that she still tasted the same. The demon’s brain was awash with images of all the ways he planned to sully Aziraphale’s new temple. It wasn’t lost on him that there was now an extra hole to fuck on his angel, one that he was about to have the pleasure of exploring for the first time. Crowley carried her to the bedroom, dropping her onto the bed amongst the rumpled bedding from his earlier attempt at a nap. Aziraphale laid back, propped up on her elbows, watching Crowley undress. He whipped his belt from their loops in one fluid motion. His eyes travelled over the partially unclothed Aziraphale again. She was reminiscent of the Ancient Greek’s depictions of a nymph. The kind where they lay about in all their nude glory, milky white skin accented with pinkish tones, the soft curvature of their belly resting just above their groin. Once he was free of his clothes, Crowley crawled towards the angel, coming up between her legs. He waved a hand over her, relieving her of clothing as well. All except the skirt. _That_ _fucking skirt._ He delicately traced the outside curve of her breast, using his thumb to circle around the firm, pink nipple. This body reacted in much the same way as her usual, little goosebumps rising in a wave across her skin. He let his lips travel over both breasts, nipping and sucking at the tender skin. You could read Aziraphale like a map, following the trail of reddened marks Crowley left behind. Aziraphale’s slender fingers were intertwined in Crowley’s hair, just barely tugging at it as he made his descent. Crowley found his way to his angel’s impossibly plush belly, burying his face there for a moment and taking in her scent. She always smelled so good. Sometimes like leather and bourbon, other times like bergamot and amber, this time like fresh cut flowers. 

After he’d lingered there long enough, he brought himself down to the burning heat between Aziraphale’s legs. He used two fingers to spread her open, revealing the slick, pink skin inside. He watched eagerly as the opening contracted in response the the nearby touch. The radiating warmth drew him closer, beckoned his mouth to secure itself over the sensitive clit protruding from the top. Aziraphale sunk back into the pile of blonde curls around her, brain officially offline, consciousness sent into the _fucking stratosphere_. Crowley hummed against the sensitive spot, making her eyes cross momentarily. This body was much more sensitive than the other. _Much much more._ Crowley adapted his forked tongue for this purpose, using it to wind up inside Aziraphale and trail out, flicking the fork over her clit. Once he was sure the angel was properly subdued into a moaning puddle of ecstasy, he flipped her over and raised her hips to line up with his cock. With no hesitation, he gathered the skirt in his hands and drove himself inside Aziraphale. Neurons fired, synapses opened and Crowley could no longer support his upper body. He fell flush against Aziraphale’s back, giving short, deep thrusts with his face buried in her curls. Aziraphale grasped desperately at the pillows, clenching them in her fists as she tried to keep a foothold in reality. The stretch she felt burned in the most pleasant way. 

Crowley’s breath was hot on Aziraphale’s neck as he bottomed out inside her repeatedly. He wrapped his long fingers around her throat, firmly enough to gain some leverage. “Is this what you wanted, angel? To feel me inside this warm, wet hole you’ve created just for me?” Aziraphale’s body was getting ready to hurl her over the edge. Words came between sharp breaths now, any attempt at a well constructed sentence abandoned long ago. “Crowley, I think- I think I’m going to- oh... _FUCK.”_ Every muscle from her abdomen down contracted all at once. She shuddered as her orgasm raked through her body, the resulting throbbing and contracting pulled Crowley right along with her. He keened vociferously against her cheek as his hips lurched forward one last time and he emptied himself inside his angel. 

Some panting and breathless kisses later, they both rolled to their side, a tangle of flushed limbs. Crowley ran a hand up Aziraphale’s smooth thigh and pinched the fabric of the skirt, rolling it between his fingers. _“Fucking skirt.”_


End file.
